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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28958829">palette</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninthsnow/pseuds/ninthsnow'>ninthsnow</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>to the best of her love [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>HololiveEN, Virtual Streamer Animated Characters, holoMyth</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Hurt/No Comfort, Light Angst, Memory Alteration, Watson did nothing wrong, amelia watson pulls a homura akemi (not really): episode 1 finale, implied inamesame, yes its definitely ot3 although this is more on the ina/ame side</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 06:14:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,595</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28958829</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninthsnow/pseuds/ninthsnow</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Ina dreams of colors.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Ninomae Ina'nis/Watson Amelia (hololive)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>to the best of her love [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2126322</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>161</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>palette</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I thought I'd write a simple 500 word drabble but look at me putting on a clown hat cause I just scammed myself.</p><p>Slight mention of self-mutilation ahead. Please turn back now if you're uncomfortable with that. If you still plan to read, then I dearly hope you enjoy it just as much as I had fun writing! wwwww</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“How long has it been?”</p><p> </p><p>Amelia laughs at the question. Soft and almost meek in tone, quite betraying the cool and standoff-ish expression of the woman asking.</p><p> </p><p>Death really was amusing.</p><p> </p><p>“Who knows,” she answers.</p><p> </p><p>"You're still avoiding them."</p><p> </p><p>"I still am, yes."</p><p> </p><p>"Why?"</p><p> </p><p>Amelia smiles at that. Her arctic blue eyes glances at the window to the busy street just teeming with life as the cacophony of human chatter fills the quaint cafe they were in. </p><p> </p><p>“Watson.” came the now annoyed voice.</p><p> </p><p>“I have my reasons, dear death.” She finally responds. “Just as you have yours for not being with our phoenix friend.”</p><p> </p><p>Calli grunts. “That’s different. Our meetings are inevitable. You on the other hand,” her eyes flash. Amelia can tell she’s confused and maybe a little frustrated. It warms whatever is left of her heart that Calli gets annoyed on her behalf.</p><p> </p><p>Her left hand reaches for tea. Probably gone cold. She remedies it by allowing magic to flow from her fingertips as she touches her cup. Amelia will never get used to that, she thinks as she brings the cup of newly warmed tea to her lips—a habit she’s trying to form despite not actually tasting anything as she sips. She wonders if she’ll come to master it like how she mastered her time machine.</p><p> </p><p>The thought makes a particularly nasty flash of pain pulse from her left elbow down to the tips of her fingers. Her hand nearly drops the cup were it not for Calli who reaches out for Amelia’s wrist and helps her set the tea on the table. </p><p> </p><p>“Thanks.” She winces, imagining the mess that she’d have to clean up had it not been for Calli’s quick reflexes. “I spent more time with my left arm than without and yet I can never brush this alien feeling whenever I use it.” she muses, flexing her fingers as she eyed it like a separate entity not attached to her person.</p><p> </p><p>“Watson,” Calli’s tone speaks for itself. They both know why.</p><p> </p><p>She had lost her arm a few timelines ago and made do with a prosthetic up until the last timeline when she finally, finally succeeds and pulls Ina from <em>Their</em>grasp by forcing <em> Them </em>to form a pact with her instead. Her arm throbs painfully once more as if responding to her thoughts. Amelia laughs. Was that the Ancient Ones' pathetic way of protesting?</p><p> </p><p>Calli looks at her hand like she wants to take her scythe out and rip it to shreds. Not that cutting it off would make a difference for how quickly it grew back. Amelia would know. She had tried it at least twice. She briefly wonders if using Calli's scythe might lead to a different result. How curious. Maybe she should borrow it? She’d ask but bites her tongue and shoots the question down lest she risks Calli’s fury.</p><p> </p><p>She’d certainly never forget the earful she got when Calli visited her only to find Amelia on the floor swimming in a pool of  her own blood, cradling her regrowing arm that didn’t quite look like an arm just yet. And no matter how much of a short fuse Calli’s temper was, there were very few that actually made her angry and that evening was a pretty good reminder of it.</p><p> </p><p>By the end of the night they were both drunk on too many shots of whiskey and a mess of limbs on the couch when Calli asked her the one question Amelia had no concrete answer for.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> "Do you regret it, Watson?" </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Did she regret it? Which one? Cutting her arm off? Rewriting an entire timeline? Giving up her humanity?  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “I only did what needed to be done.” She finds herself saying, not needing to specify what she was talking about. It wasn't really an answer to Calli's question but the reaper wasn't very specific about her query either. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “What needed to be done,” Calli repeats, sarcastic and disapproving. “Amelia, when that thing is done licking its wounds it’ll try to break you.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> And Amelia will be waiting for it to come and try. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> "Heh," she chuckles. "Maybe there's another me who found a better solution. But this... this is mine. It's mine. And I... I just want them to be happy. Even if it’s just in this timeline. Even if..." she trails off, swallowing the rest of the words that couldn’t make it past the knot in her throat. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Even if it's without me, is what she chose not to say.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> Calli heard her anyway. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>"God damn it." Calli suddenly curses, snapping her out of her reverie. Amelia notices how the reaper tensed as her eyes flashed quite literally.</p><p> </p><p>"Duty calls?"</p><p> </p><p>"Mhm." Calli hums. "An accident it seems. Just a block from here."</p><p> </p><p>Amelia smiles. "Well, don't let me keep you." her hand unconsciously reaches to scratch at her ear, idly tracing at its very slightly sharpened tip. She finds it a little pointier than the last time she checked.</p><p> </p><p>Calli notices and her mouth opens as if wanting to say something about it. Amelia waits, as she always does, and is relieved when the reaper decides against it. They’ve been over it. Calli may never understand or fully agree with Amelia’s reasons but she respected them all the same. They were cut from the same cloth after all. Stuck on different loops that felt the same in its very core. One was stuck on a loop of her own making while the other is helplessly subjected to the laws of life and death.</p><p> </p><p>The reaper stands and prepares to take her leave but stops and gives Amelia an apologetic stare. "Sorry for, uh, bailing on you."</p><p> </p><p>"Aw, Calli." Amelia starts in an overly sweet and just a touch suggestive tone. "You don't need to be sorry. You can come and make it up to me some other time, yes?"</p><p> </p><p>As expected, Calli makes a disgusted face at her as her body starts to fade. It makes her think of trying out teleportation spells for herself.</p><p> </p><p>"See you soon!" She calls out, giggling, because that wasn't something you should say to death’s aide herself, was it?</p><p> </p><p>The last thing she sees is Calli flipping her off before all traces of the reaper vanished.</p><p> </p><p>She chuckles, leaning back on her chair as she eyed her tea cup. Barely touched. She debated on whether she should finish it but did it really matter when everything tasted like ash? She'd mourn the loss of her sense of taste some other time because for now, like clockwork, the chime bells gave a small ring as the doors of the cafe are pushed open.</p><p> </p><p>Amelia watches, a contented smile pulling at the corners of her lips.</p><p> </p><p>**</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> She's here again. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Ina can’t quite help the way her eyes are drawn over to the person sitting by herself on the table adjacent to the large window panes. Legs crossed, chin resting on a closed fist, and a finger idly tapping on the book on her table as she watches the day go about through the window. Did she like people-watching? Ina always seems to catch her staring intently at the streets. Her tea cup is also almost never touched, as is the small plate of strawberry shortcake that pairs with it.</p><p> </p><p>For all her observations, what Ina’s mind is actually stuck on is the fact that she’s really beautiful.</p><p> </p><p>A clearing of the throat snaps her out of her mild trance and she sheepishly turns her attention back to the cashier. She recites her and Gura’s usual orders with ease as she rummages her bag for her wallet.</p><p> </p><p>“Will that be all?”</p><p> </p><p>“A large lemon iced tea too, please.” The words come out before her mind can actually catch on the fact that she was needlessly ordering for a third drink. “Ah, I mean—” she tries to take it back but the cashier was already punching her order in. “...All for take out, please.” she says instead as she hands over her card.</p><p> </p><p>Ina sighs. She’s been really out of it lately. Maybe she should take Gura out on a trip this weekend to refresh a little bit. </p><p> </p><p>A flash of movement catches the corner of her eye. It was the pretty woman, standing up and collecting her things. She slips on her beige coat and tucks the book under her left arm and—and Ina definitely thinks she’s hallucinating when instead of a hand, she sees a <em>tentacle</em> curl over the book. She only sees it for barely a second but it convinces her enough that she probably needs sleep and not more coffee. Perhaps that misordered ice tea will be better for her after all.</p><p> </p><p>Her thoughts are interrupted by a sudden odd sense of… sadness that she feels deep in her heart as she watches the blonde woman walk away, not even sparing her a glance.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike> <em> Ame. </em> </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>Her mouth soundlessly calls out, a hand reaching just as the woman leaves through the door.</p><p> </p><p>"Miss?"</p><p> </p><p>Ina jumps, turning back and seeing her order already on the counter. "Oh. Um. Thank you." Her eyes catch something on the table that was usually occupied by the mysterious woman.</p><p> </p><p>Just beside the untouched cup of tea and slice of cake was a brown cap.</p><p> </p><p>“Actually, do you mind if I leave these here for just a minute?”</p><p>  </p><p>**</p><p> </p><p>She couldn’t have gotten far, Ina tells herself as her feet slow to a jog. She tries to scan the crowd for that telling beige coat, hoping to see strangely familiar blue eyes and the seemingly always crooked red tie that Ina’s hands had always itched to fix. It’s futile. There were just too many people and it’s not like she knows which direction the woman would have taken anyway.</p><p> </p><p>It leaves a bitter taste on Ina’s mouth. Just why did she go out of her way to return a stranger’s hat in the first place? The woman would probably go back to the cafe herself for it if so inclined. Now that she really thinks about it, that is the more likely scenario.</p><p> </p><p>She sighs, eyes casting down on the checkered hat in her hands. Staring at it for too long makes Ina feel strange. She should probably head back and leave the cap to the staff just in case the woman comes back. </p><p> </p><p>She retraces her steps in defeat, hat held close to her chest. Ina can’t quite shake off the vaguest feeling that something was just... off. She feels as if there is something she can’t quite reach buried deep in the crevices of her mind. The feeling washes over her like a blanket on a hot day. Harmless yet uncomfortable.</p><p> </p><p>Lost in her thoughts, she is entirely caught off guard when she bumps into something just as she turns at an intersection. The force wasn’t enough to knock her so far back but just enough that she feels her knees give a little. It was when hands reached to steady her that she realized it wasn’t something she bumped into but rather someone. </p><p> </p><p>And <em> oh. </em> There she is.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you okay?”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> <strike> Ame. </strike> </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“It’s you.” Ina finds herself saying. Then backtracks when she realizes that’s just a weird thing to say to someone she just met. “Oh. Sorry. I meant--” her words failing her, she looks at the cap in her hands. “The owner of this hat, I mean.”</p><p> </p><p>A light chuckle. “Yeah, it’s mine. Did you go out of your way to look for me? You didn’t have to. It’s not worth the trouble.”</p><p> </p><p>Strangely, Ina’s hands seemed to grip the hat a little tighter. Her heart feels heavy in her chest. Grounding herself, she takes a deep breath and stops looking at her feet to finally look her in the eyes.</p><p> </p><p>Soft smile.</p><p> </p><p>Gentle eyes.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike> <em> Ame</em>. </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>Not trusting her words, Ina only gives a nod. Handing the cap back to the woman who grins and immediately puts it back on.</p><p> </p><p>“Now, that’s better. That was really clumsy of me, leaving my hat like that.” She muses as she tucks a hair behind her ear and gives Ina a smile that adds another anchor to the weight she felt in her heart.</p><p> </p><p>Ina’s sight blurs all together but not quickly enough that she doesn’t miss the sudden worry that paints the woman’s features.</p><p> </p><p>She’s crying, she realizes.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh god, I'm so sorry.” Ina wipes at her eyes with her sleeve. “I don’t know what came over me. You probably think I’m a creep. It’s just been a stressful day for me.” she lies because what else could she say? Bursting into tears randomly isn’t exactly first-meeting etiquette.</p><p> </p><p>The tears left as quickly as they came thankfully. She’s still wiping at her tears when she feels something warm covering the top of her head. It was the hat, she realizes, just as a handkerchief with a silly moustache stitched on its corner is offered to her. When she makes no move to take it, the woman takes it upon herself to wipe at the corner of her eye. Her touch was gentle and Ina feels the back of her eyes burn once more but she grits her teeth and tries to stop the tears from falling again.</p><p> </p><p>“We all have bad days, it’s perfectly fine to cry whenever you want to.” The woman’s voice fills her ears and Ina finds that she can listen to her all day.</p><p> </p><p>Ina swallows around the knot in her throat. “Your hat, um,” she makes a move to take it off but the woman’s hand keeps it in place, laughing.</p><p> </p><p>“How ‘bout you keep it for now, yeah?” She grins. “A hat makes everything better.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s ridiculous and absolutely makes no sense but Ina laughs.</p><p> </p><p>“Aha! See, it does work.” the woman laughs. “So, keep it for now, alright? I don’t need it anyway for where I’m headed.” she adds, taking a step back as her hand absently fiddles with the watch clipped on her skirt, its cracked surface glinting as the last of the setting sun’s rays hits its face.</p><p> </p><p>Ina wants to refuse but more than anything, she doesn’t want to wipe that ridiculous grin on the woman’s face. So she accepts, bowing her head a little. </p><p> </p><p>“I’ll hold on to it well.” she mumbles.</p><p> </p><p>The grin on the stranger’s face softens to a smile. </p><p> </p><p>“I can trust that you would.”</p><p> </p><p>They parted ways soon after that, once the woman was assured enough that Ina was fine and it wasn’t until Ina was back at the cafe that she realized that she didn’t ask for her name.</p><p> </p><p>But as her hand absently pats at the cap on her head, she gets the feeling that they’ll meet again soon.</p><p> </p><p>**</p><p> </p><p>Later that night, Ina once again dreams of colors.</p><p> </p><p>She’s dreamt of this before. She knows what will happen.</p><p> </p><p>She dreams of Gura laughing, fingers interlaced with someone else’s that Ina doesn’t recognize. Everything was crystal clear aside from that figure. She can see everything else so vividly that she can’t tell dreams from reality when she first wakes. And yet, that figure remained abstract and incomprehensible. But she recognizes the colors.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike> The yellow of her hair. </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike> The red of her tie. </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <strike> The blue in her eyes. </strike>
</p><p> </p><p>She recognizes them and yet they refuse to take a concrete shape.</p><p> </p><p>Ina watches, her heart full of love for both Gura and that <em> person </em> she can’t quite recognize.</p><p> </p><p>And when they turn to look at her, smiles on their faces, Ina knows they loved her too.</p><p> </p><p>**</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>oh dear, oh dear.</p><p>i genuinely wanted this fic to have a happier tone? but 'iname' and 'happy' doesn't seem to mix well. god what is it with this ship? still the overall outcome isn't so sad, right? im perfectly incapable of writing angst after all wwwww</p><p>Now, about the homura akemi in the tags, well, this entire fic was basically inspired from the thought, 'what if ame just split ina and ao-chan ala pmmm: rebellion style' and I was originally planning to write the entire fic revolving on that but it was a litttttle too much for my brain cells so hey why not an aftermath instead, yeah? ye! </p><p>Was I doing a bit of mental gymnastics trying to fit a not so subtle amemori in there which you can totally ignore if its not your cup of tea? yuuuup.</p><p>Do I think this will all eventually blow up on Amelia's face? Absolutely. Will I be there to write it? Maybe not.</p><p>im <a href="https://twitter.com/ninthsnow">ninthsnow</a> on the birb app where i only ever lurked for about a year now. still, come say hi if you want! www</p></blockquote></div></div>
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